


Ore no Peach

by h_itoshi



Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Birthday Fic!, Instead otaku fuma, Is he creepy or just an idol fan?, M/M, Masturbation, Peach otome game inspired, aka sz without Fuma, the famous half-canon, think the wagaheya look
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Sometimes Fuma wonders if things would have been different if he was the normal otaku type. If he'd have more friends if he enjoyed drooling over cutely drawn girls in miniskirts innocently sucking cream off their fingers, or even just was a Love Live or a tentacle hentai fan. But he’s not. There are other things for him.





	Ore no Peach

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give all the cred for this idea to Em. I was dying over the fic potential of the Peach opening in repainting but had no idea where to go with it, and got the suggestion of half creepy Fuma playing Kento games. And I kind of like the result? It's obviously very text heavy but yeah. It happens when there's no one to talk to :D

Fuma’s mastered the talent of walking while reading ever since he was a kid. He can read manga on the train, while getting off the train, down the stairs and to his exit. He could technically read even further but his boss usually sweeps outside the café in the morning, and Fuma doesn’t want him to see what he reads. It was hard enough for him to get this job; he doesn’t want to look for another.

On his way home however, it’s a whole different story. His body is almost autonomous as he turns corners from the train station, barely even looking up at street crossings since the sound tells him when it’s safe to walk.

It’s not that he finds the stories he reads in public especially intriguing, he just finds the rest of the world too busy. He doesn’t like being out there, doesn’t like being bullied for everything about him, from his glasses to his old clothes and dirty hair and his otaku interests. His lack of higher education and prestigious job.

Sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if he was the normal otaku type. If he'd have more friends if he enjoyed drooling over cutely drawn girls in miniskirts innocently sucking cream off their fingers, or even just was a Love Live or a tentacle hentai fan. But he’s not. There are other things for him.

He still has friends, but they’re mostly text on a screen and voices over a microphone. Nobody he'd meet over coffee to discuss their common interests.

Fuma feels the train shift tracks and he looks up from the book in his hand, eyes locking on the billboard pasted on the building on the other side of the tracks. He knows every inch of it, but he still has to look at it every single time he passes, to see that encouraging smile and flawless face advertising a skin lotion for girls. Fuma may or may not have bought the scent held by those pretty hands, just to get a sense of what he might smell like.

The billboard disappears from view, and Fuma looks back down into his manga, staring at the frames for a few moments as they seem irrelevant compared to the face etched onto the back of his eyelids now.

But he’ll be home soon, so he doesn’t have to read boring, PG rated BL stories anymore. He can do something else.

It started out innocent, surprisingly. Fuma saw the 17 year old boy while watching TV with his grandmother. Saw his radiant smile and over the top reactions, heard him talk about how deeply he loved his fans. His big dark eyes sparkling with dedication, and everything else seemed unimportant as he spoke, commanding attention without making an effort. Then Fuma saw him sing. The song was stupid, and as a defiant 16 year old he snorted at the lyrics enough that his grandmother scolded him. But secretly, he couldn't take his eyes off the center boy in the white, feathery glitter costume.

After that, Nakajima Kento seemed to haunt him, popping up everywhere he looked. In a drama, a TV magazine, a commercial, in his high school class as girls talked about him. He'd probably always been there, but suddenly Fuma noticed him. A Johnny's idol.

Fuma never cared for real boys before him. He always preferred the drawn ones in his top secret manga, stashed away behind his history books, and he'd already accepted that crushing on humans of flesh and bone wasn't something that was going to happen to him.

But then a drama came out with Nakajima Kento in it, and Fuma couldn't stop watching. His face was so flawless, like a real life version of a prince from a cheesy BL story, and Fuma found himself blushing when Kento said sickeningly sweet lines on screen.

It wasn't until his heart jumped in his chest when he saw a magazine cover at the combini that Fuma realized what was going on.

It made him turn and go home without buying anything, falling into bed and staring into the ceiling while trying to get a grip on his feelings. He'd always assumed the BL was just a phase, just because he wasn't into the straight porn genres his friends were and BL happened to be closest to his taste. But what he felt for that idol boy, that was more real than anything he'd felt for any female before, ever. Drawn on paper, on a screen or in real life.

But it wasn't too hard to accept his sexual orientation, because somehow, he'd always known, and if there were boys out there like Kento, who needed girls?

The first little step was buying a magazine simply for Kento's sake. An idol magazine with him on the cover, in a black T-shirt, wrapped up in red ribbons and with fierce dark eyes. Fuma touched himself to those pictures, cheeks blushing furiously in shame but he couldn't help himself. Not with the way Kento seemed to look into his soul through the pages, twirling red silk around his long fingers.

Initially, Fuma thought it was only going to be that. A sexual thing that would pass eventually. But then he started actually reading the interviews, not just looking at photos.

Then he learned that they had blogs, blogs you could pay 324 yen a month to read. It barely took him 45 minutes after learning the fact for him to decide to register, reading everything accessible that Kento had written, in real time.

And after that, he started buying the CDs, goods, pictures. Started the foundation of his collection.

Fuma unlocks his front door, finally, getting rid of his outerwear and tossing the manga on top of the kitchen table. There are already several other books there, some more rated than others, and take away food containers that he couldn't be bothered to get rid off yet. They don't smell that bad.

He takes a soft drink from the fridge and moves to the combined living room and bedroom, relaxing as he sees the familiar face on the wall.

He's got hundreds of them. Official, paparazzi, magazine cut outs, uchiwas, collector cards. On the shelves are clearfiles, CDs, fanclub pamphlets and rows of doujinshi. The ones Fuma wishes he could read on the train, but he won't go that far. He's already creepy enough.

And then there's the game.

The game Fuma knows forwards and backwards, every single route, every single choice he can make and where it will lead him.

He thought it was a joke at first, when it was announced, because Johnny's wasn't that kind of agency. At least he didn't think it was, he never bothered too much with it more than it having Kento.

An otome game, called Peach, based on Kento and his three group mates. It's set in a high school environment, the plot so generic it's laughable, but Fuma couldn't care less. He remembers when it was announced, that he dropped a coffee cup in the sink at work reading the news. A game where you could interact with the idols, where you could insert your own name and see them address you, fight for you with their different personality traits.

Fuma's 24 years old now, and he shouldn't be so easily bothered anymore, but the first time he heard Kento's husky voice recorded in the game, he was so much of a mess he had to pause. Kento's the prince character, of course he is. He's a prince in real life too, saying things that barely anyone would speak with such confidence that it's impossible not to be drawn to him.

Fuma changes into his sweatpants, hands shaking a little in anticipation as he starts the TV and grabs the controller. He plays this game as often as he can, because he never tires of it. There's one thing to watch concert DVDs, dramas, making ofs, music videos. But there's something else entirely about having Kento look at him and reply to the choices Fuma actively makes. The only thing that disturbs the illusion is that Kento's addressing a girl, but Fuma's learned the perfect route to avoid the most obvious girl references, if he's in that mood.

The game theme is obviously a peachy pink with swirling gold, and every time, Fuma thinks it looks like a host club rather than a high school game. He wishes it was a host club, wishes he could pay Kento to tell him things, that Fuma is hot and interesting and that he wants him. Pay him to do anything Fuma wanted.

But it's not.

His game nickname is Fuu-chan, because it looks cute on the screen next to Kento's name. He reads the character introductions playing on the screen again, not caring too much about the other three even though they have character types he usually likes. The tsundere type can be kind of hot, especially paired with the sweet type, and Fuma wouldn't mind those two in the game together either. The butler type here is a half boy, his father from some European country, and he looks like a JGV actor that would definitely have a ribbon around their ankle. He's probably too young to even be in one of those, but everything about his body says filthy porn and Fuma can't unsee it.

And then there's Kento.

Kento with his dark eyes and dark school uniform, perfect hair and jaw so sharp Fuma wants to cut himself on it. He's holding a red rose, smelling it for a second with closed eyes before turning to the camera, eyes snapping open to bore into Fuma's soul with their intensity.

“I'll make you mine, dearest princess.”

He says, and the words run down Fuma's spine like a heated trickle, igniting his nervous system with tingles all over. He doesn't mind being called princess, even kind of finds the word erotic by now. It feels filthy and superior in a way he can't entirely grasp, but he can hear Kento's voice speaking it with a hint of tease. Like Fuma would ask for too much, wanting to be spoiled, and the pet name would be a soft reprimand.

He's got scenarios played out in his mind for every single phrase Kento speaks, and sometimes, he plays through the entire game just to find the one he wants right then.

He chooses the path that will bring him to Kento almost autonomously, disregarding the cute approach from the boy with the teddy bear, aiming for the most popular boy of the entire school instead. There's one particular scene he wants today, one he's got gifs of in his phone to repeat whenever he needs it, but it's even better with the build up.

The game is mostly pictures and text, the general visual novel concept, but it has voice acting lines and a couple high budget videos that look like they're taken out of a drama. Those are the best, the rewards Fuma plays for.

It's easy to tell which two are the most popular boys in the group, since they get the most plot options, and Fuma chooses the triangle drama route between Kento and the tsundere boy, Shori. Shori's cute, a well sculpted face with huge eyes and a really nice ass, so for the doujinshi, Fuma mostly chooses him as Kento's partner. And their real life interaction just makes the choice better.

Kento is a very flirty person. He talks to everyone like they're royalty who deserve a kiss on the hand and an escort to the finest restaurant in town, and he seems to communicate mostly by touching. He's very respectful of women, but less careful with men. Fuma knows, he's seen the DVDs and fancams and TV show clips online. He's seen Kento kneel before a gorgeous boy like he was proposing to him, has seen him slap a younger boy's ass and grab Shori's collar and practically kiss his neck. Has seen him lean in for a pretend kiss countless times and read about him discussing how it felt being kissed by a man.

He could be jealous, but mostly Fuma feels intrigued. Teased, almost. He loves and hates how sex seems to linger like a cloud in the air around Kento, how his sultry look is always just a second away. It makes it so much easier to imagine what it would be like.

Fuma has two different settings for his fantasies. Either he's passive and lets Kento do anything and everything to him, or the other way around.

When he's frustrated or irritated, he wants to be the one in control. He wants Kento on his hands and knees on the floor, barely dressed and moaning deliciously as Fuma fucks him and sucks blooming hickeys into his flawless neck. Wants to pull his hair and take him so hard he'd feel it for a week, show him just how sickeningly beautiful he is and what he deserves for it.

Other days, he wants to worship the ground Kento steps on, feels overwhelmed just seeing him smile and wishes he could just come close enough to look at his face in person, just once. Those are the days he plays the game.

Kento's character is popular and determined, straightforward yet amazingly eloquent. He seems to know exactly what to say to make someone blush as their heart twinges at his words.

For the plot Fuma chose tonight, he's encouraging both Kento and Shori, which inevitably will make them fight despite being friends to begin with. He doesn't care much for the date he has to go on with Shori for the plot to progress, even though the video of him angrily drinking a latte has some appeal. But the date with Kento is different, the video taken in a beautiful café and Kento looks so perfect he seems to sparkle in his ordinary clothes.

Fuma makes a small noise as the video starts and Kento looks up from the cup in front of him with a slightly concerned expression.

“Thank you for the drink, but I don't drink black coffee.” He says, and Fuma's heartrate picks up as a small smile touches Kento's soft lips. “Ah, that's right! If you give me a kiss, it'll definitely turn sweet.”

The twinkle in his eyes is genuine as he speaks the words, and Fuma draws a shaky breath, fingers subconsciously rubbing slowly against his own inner thigh. Close, but still only teasing.

He can't choose an actual kiss option, because clearly the player character has no balls, and instead he picks to blush, smile and flirt along.

He likes the build up of the game like that. It has a lot of good foreplay to draw things out. At least that's what Fuma considers it, especially with this route. Because there's no way you could look at Kento walking through the school corridor, with his bag slung over his shoulder and a lopsided smile, without wanting to bang him to within an inch of his life.

He enjoys the tease of it, enjoys being half hard for a long time as he moves through the plot, erection twitching with excitement as he moves on to make Kento jealous. Hears Kento's words get more and more possessive, and it's twistedly hot as he borderlines into Shori's character territory.

“Isn't your skirt too short? The only one you're allowed to show everything to is me.” He says, glancing from below and up to Fuma's face, his voice deep and sultry and Fuma shifts under those eyes.

He wishes he wore a short skirt for Kento to glare at, something to easily slip his hands under.

Instead, his own hand slips under his T-shirt, fluttering across his stomach and up his chest and he shudders violently. His own touch is all he knows, yet he feels like he tends to overreact to it, and he wonders what someone else's would feel like. Imagines longer fingers, slimmer, softer hands. How the touch would melt him, leave him a shivering, moaning mess.

He gasps audibly as he brushes a nipple, and he removes his hand to grab the controller again, shifting against the heavy erection in his pants but he knows he's almost there.

His reply to Kento's jealous comment is that he might not be the only one, and Kento's eyes darken in reaction before the video is over. Fuma can't help himself, very rarely can during that particular sequence, as he lays the controller on his thigh in order to still play while his left hand gets busy.

He just lightly brushes against the hardness in his pants over clothing, and it makes him shiver, his erection twitching in frustration as it's not nearly enough friction.

He meets up with Shori again, and his jealousy is not nearly as attractive, but hot enough that his touch is spurred on, rubbing himself more pointedly.

Then the scene he's waited for is finally up, and he chooses to go look for Kento after he stormed off earlier, then drops the controller on the floor as the video starts.

Fuma's right hand slips inside his pants the same second as Kento catches up with Shori on screen, anger glowing in his eyes.

He knows exactly where to look, and his eyes lock to Kento's hand as it fists in the front of Shori's shirt and throws him up against the wall, pressing up close to him with eyes so dark Fuma can't get any air.

“What are you playing at?” Kento inquires, voice low and threatening, and Shori glares back up under bangs, the picture perfect. Fuma wants them to kiss, just lean in another decimetre and devour each other, but of course they don't. They only hint at it.

“I don't know what you're talking about?” Shori says defiantly, and his lips part as he looks up at Kento, not playing angry nearly as good as him.

Kento's eyes flutter a little as he glances down at Shori's lips before meeting his eyes again, and Fuma whines at how hot the image is, his hand on his erection tight and it feels so good to finally stroke himself.

“She's mine.” Kento says, fist tightening in Shori's shirt for a moment as he leans in close to his ear to speak, and Fuma shivers, hearing in his head how Kento would say it to him, the hot breath against his skin as Kento would claim him as his own.

Fuma's breath is louder than Shori's upset reply, his nerves short circuiting and he comes in his pants with a pathetic moan, hips bucking up into his hand uncontrollably. A small whine leaves his lips as he comes down from the high, his body still tingling with the quickly fading pleasure as the video ends before him on the screen, leaving a still photo and some options.

Fuma slowly catches his breath as he watches Kento's profile on the screen, and he wonders for the thousandth time how Kento would look post coital. Wishes he could see it, but he knows that's something he will never know.

He slowly gets up and walks uncomfortably to the bathroom, stripping off his cooling, wet underwear and changes into new ones before heading back to the TV and the options before him.

There's still a lot of time left before he needs to go to bed.

 

 

~*~

 


End file.
